


Uniform Policy

by dreamingthroughwords



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, basically my headcanon about how the first time morag stepped into her uniform and brighid helped, wanted to try some pre-canon moraghid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingthroughwords/pseuds/dreamingthroughwords
Summary: The first time Mòrag tries on the Special Inquisitor uniform, it doesn’t exactly...suit her. Good thing that Brighid has an impeccable sense of taste.(Pre-Canon)
Relationships: Kagutsuchi | Brighid/Meleph | Mòrag Ladair
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Uniform Policy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, I found myself thinking about Mòrag's uniform, and how it was tailored to fit her, and who designed it, and got to thinking about how there was probably a style of uniform specific to the special inquisitor (not based exactly like the one we see in Torna, I like to think it evolved from there), and it would need to be tailored for Mòrag, which lead to this!
> 
> This is pre-canon and about just over a year after Mòrag had awakened Brighid...I don't believe the game says anything about canonically when Mòrag awakened Brighid, so commence the headcanon. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“....It is rather....large, don’t you think?”

Mòrag is standing in front of a mirror in Hardhaigh palace, stood on a pedestal while a tailor is kneeling beside her feet with a measuring tape. It’s her first fitting for her Special Inquisitor uniform....and considering she is the first woman in history to step foot into the role, she really shouldn’t not be surprised the uniform that has been presented to her was unfitting.

But...she wasn’t expecting it to be _this_ bad.

The tailor stumbles a bit, moving to stand to face her eye to eye. “Well, yes...but this style of uniform has been used in the Ardainian Empire for generations, so I tailored it to the best of my ability....”

Mòrag blinks. “This was the best of your ability?” She feels a bit guilty when that was the first thing that comes out of her mouth; but she’d spent the last week learning the ins and outs of their Army and other politics, and had realized that....many of those who worked for the glory of Mor Ardain were much more incompetent than she had expected. And she’s the one that will have to get everyone bent back into shape.

A knock at the door. “Lady Mòrag, may I come in?”

She looks back towards the door then back at herself, baggy and unkempt black fabric practically drowning her. Her and Brighid—Mòrag still cannot believe sometimes that she is the wielder of the Jewel of Mor Ardain,even after the year they’ve been together— they’ve been getting along extremely well, and she feels that they’ve grown especially close in the last few months. They’d been spending more time together, after all, going back and fourth from Gormott several times. Traveling in an enclosed AirShip certainly brings two closer together.

“Of course, Brighid. You need not ask.”

Mòrag hears the door creak, and she turns to greet her Blade. Just as Mòrag was about to speak, Brighid’s expression interrupts her thoughts. The second that Brighid had laid eyes on Mòrag, her eyebrows had risen beneath her bangs and her mouth was slightly open. Mòrag turns her head behind her and both ways, thinking her Blade had sensed danger.

When nothing was amiss, she raised an eyebrow back. “Is something the matter?”

Brighid blinks—or at least, what Mòrag would consider a blink, since Brighid keeps her eyes hidden—and makes way to where Mòrag is standing with the tailor.

Brighid stops and crosses her arms below her chest, tilting a hip to the side. “Besides that atrocity you are wearing?”

As Mòrag opens her mouth to speak, the words get caught in her throat because…well, she can’t exactly think about how to answer that. It really was an unflattering piece of fabric…and to think, it had already _been_ worked on.

Brighid does not waste any time in letting her thoughts be known, though.

“You really thought that mess of fabric was acceptable to prepare for the Special Inquisitor?”

The tailor stumbles over his words, looking between the two, but never making eye contact with either. “Ah, Lady Brighid, I can assure you-“

“Out. I will fix this.” Brighid moves further into the room, motioning for the tailor to make a swift exit.

Mòrag blinks and looks down to the tailor. She’s about to defend him, but she catches another glance of herself in the mirror....

Yes, perhaps Brighid could help her fix this mess.

“It is alright, you may be excused. I would like to talk alone with Brighid, please.”

“O-of course, Lady Mòrag! Please let me know if I can be of any assistance...” he then flees the room rather fast, and Brighid’s eyes are not open, but Mòrag thinks she’s sending a very pointed look in his direction that makes him move a bit faster.

“You did not have to scare the man away. He did put in effort to...try and tailor this for me,” Mòrag begins.

“You would call this ‘trying’?” Brighid comes closer and leans in, scrutinizing her with still closed eyes. Mòrag wonders what Brighid’s eyes look like underneath, whether the colour matches the azure of her Blades flames or a different colour that would stand out even more.

Mòrag catches herself. She cannot be thinking thoughts such as these; she has a job to do.

Brighid brings a hand to her chin for a moment, before moving her hands and placing them on Mòrag’s hips.

So much for pushing those thoughts out the window.

Brighid’s hands are warm, as to be expected from a fire Blade, but Mòrag feels a different sort of warmth inside her chest. Brighid’s hands bring a sense of comfort Mòrag hadn’t felt in a long time—if she ever had. She quite likes the feeling, if she were honest with herself.

“....something on your mind, Lady Mòrag?”

Oh for the love of the architect, what was wrong with her? She didn’t even realize she had been staring…..and she realizes due to the way that Brighid’s hands were positioned and that Mòrag was stood on a slightly elevated pedestal, that she had been staring directly at Brighid’s chest.

This is _not_ like her in the slightest. She averts her gaze to look behind Brighid, but Mòrag can see that she is smirking in her peripheral vision.

Mòrag clears her throat. “Ah, yes. I was just wondering what you were doing, exactly?”

In battle, being smooth and quick was one of her many impeccable talents. In situations like this....practically the opposite.

Brighid looks up, smirk still present on her face, and Mòrag states back with the most blank expression she can muster.

“I am determining how much extra fabric there is…it seems there is quite the excess around your hips. Pass me those pins, if you may?”

Mòrag says nothing and grabs the pins that the tailor left behind on the counter.

Brighid takes them, and begins to pull the fabric in tighter as she places the pins. “Turn around,” Brighid commands, and Mòrag does as she says.

As Brighid continues to move around the uniform, pinning all the places that are loose—which is practically the entire thing—a comfortable silence falls between them. Mòrag is used to the feel of Brighid’s hands by now.

After a few hours, Brighid steps back, and places down the pins. “There. I believe that should be much better.”

It is not perfect yet, as the loose fabric is still present, but Mòrag can already see the difference.

“You have quite the keen eye, Brighid. Thank you.”

Brighid laughs. “That I do. Now, would you like help taking that off? It might be easier to keep the pins in place with an extra hand.”

They have shared rooms and have been a permanent fixture in each others lives for over a year—why would such an innocent suggestion cause a rush of heat in her chest?

Mòrag pauses for just a moment. Really, this is just business. And, there is no way she would be able to get out of this on her own without moving everything around.

“If it is not too much trouble, it would be much appreciated.”

“My pleasure.”

* * *

The next day they’re back in the tailors' room, and it is just her and Brighid once again.

Mòrag steps out from behind the privacy screen, moving into the main room where Brighid waits.

Brighid smiles the second that Mòrag reveals herself, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “Now _that_ is much more suitable for someone such as yourself, Lady Mòrag.”

Mòrag looks down, smooths out the pants with her hands before turning her gaze back to Brighid. “You think so?”

“I have no doubts about my own tastes. Come, take a look. I have the armour all polished and ready to place, as well.”

Mòrag walks over to the pedestal and steps on it before examining herself in the mirror.

It really does compliment her, she thinks. It’s still a bit loose—but that is what she had wanted; for people to take her seriously, she needs to send a message. It’s not loose enough that she looks ridiculous, but still a soldier. The black and red match her skin and dark hair nicely; the white in the centre of the jacket a good compliment to the dark contrast of the other colours. The coat is tight around her waist before flowing out behind her, light and airy that she’ll be able to fight in it no problem—perfect for her style of combat. The pants are of the same feel, and the boots are a subtle gold that symbolizes Mor Ardain and fit just right so that she can move swiftly.

Brighid really does have impeccable taste.

“What do you think, Lady Mòrag?”

“It is truly remarkable, Brighid. You truly have an eye for good taste,” Mòrag smiles, and she meets Brighid’s hidden gaze in the mirror. Brighid smiles back; and it’s such a nice moment between them. It’s so simple and small, and those types of moments are rare in their lifestyle—Mòrag wants more like this, she thinks.

Brighid then moves to the side, and Mòrag follows. Her Blade picks up the ornamented armour of the same gold as her greaves; plated expertly for combat. Her shoulder armour has gear-shaped clasps that symbolize the empire, and Mòrag stands still as Brighid clips them on to ensure they are secure.

The hip armour is similar to the one on her shoulders, both sides to be placed on each of her hips to attach and create the symbol of the Empire. Brighid’s hands are on her hips once again and she fixes the armour into place.

The armour truly completes the set—Mòrag is quite fond of it. There is just one piece missing.

“And the final touch?”

Mòrag holds the hat, and decides something. “I shall leave the honour to you, Brighid. After all, this is all your expertise.”

Mòrag hands Brighid the hat, and Brighid does not move for a moment. When she does, a soft smile is gracing her Blades face. Brighid then leans in closer, close enough that their noses almost touch. This is the closest they’d ever gotten, and Mòrag thinks she would like to do this again. She glances down at Brighid’s lips, and she thinks they look rather soft….

Before her thoughts can go any further down that road, she feels the hat gently come to rest on her head, and she pulls back as Brighid does the same. Brighid’s arms are still resting on the hat upon Mòrag’s head, and her Blade slowly lowers them back to her side.

Brighid is smiling at her, and Mòrag lifts her own hands to adjust the cap to fit just a little bit better. It feels rather nice, and the visor does not obscure her vision at all.

“Well, how do I look?”

Brighid comes closer, and places her hands on top of Mòrag’s shoulder. “Ready to show everyone the reason you are the special inquisitor, Lady Mòrag.”

Mòrag laughs, and holds out a hand. “Thank you, Brighid. Now, shall we?”

Brighid looks at Mòrag’s outstretched hand, and after a moment of hesitation, her Blade reciprocates the gesture.

“Now, where do we go from here?”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I DID think about writing about what happened behind the privacy screen when Brighid is helping Mòrag take off the uniform with the pins, but I thought I would let your imaginations run wild ;) (in all honesty, I didn't add it because I didn't think it fit the story I wanted to write with this fic haha, tbh I tried to write it and it just ended up being more of Brighid smirking and Mòrag having gay thoughts™) Mayhaps I can write something similar, but further down the line so I can add more to it....anyways.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos appreciated! I hope you're all having a lovely afternoon/evening/night/morning wherever you are!


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